The Adventures
by Unglucklichen
Summary: Stories about disappointment, and the reality of the world around us.
1. The Adventure

You slink through the damp forest, wet after a recent rain. Taking care to not step on anything that could give away your position to your quarry, you carefully slip around the trunks and stumps of trees. Every step brings you closer; every obstacle skirted around one less in your way. Then, you see him; a shifty rat of a man, oozing down the path, on his way to continue some dirty deed, or something along those lines. But you don't care about that; all you care about is how close you are to the completion of your journey, one that spans years. You slowly draw out a crossbow, zero in on the small of the man's back, and gently apply pressure to the trigger. A soft _twang_ , the rush of the bolt through the air, and then… Light.

Ella bursts awake, sunlight pushing through a gap in her drawn blinds. _Closer_ , she thinks, _closer than ever before_. She had been having the recurring dream for months. She wonders what it means, but is no closer to figuring it out today then she was the first time. Ella looks around her room, a cozy affair of earthy tones and plush furniture. Taking a moment to put on the outfit she laid out last night, a simple combo of shorts and a shirt. Ella's eyes slide over to the picture on her bed post, taken when both her parents were still alive. They, her parents, were a happy couple; a cliché story of love at first sight, and subsequent romcom dates and hijinks. Ella shakes the thoughts away, the loss still sore after a freak accident involving a drunk driver losing control of their vehicle. Ever since then, Ella made sure to look both ways at the crosswalk, and to be careful whenever crossing the street. Finishing with the morning reminiscence, Ella walks over to the blinds and throws them open, taking in the sights and sounds of the city life. People streamed by in a kaleidoscope of colors, some walking alone, others with their Pokémon, all engrossed in their own little world, unaware of Ella looking at them. Suddenly, something oddly familiar catches Ella's eye. A still spot in the moving scenery, someone that looked just like her mother on the day of the fateful crash that stole her life, gazing at Ella from the edge of a previously missing alleyway, completely ignored by the crowds around them. Ella rushed down the stairs of her home and burst out the door, pushing through the throng, and erupted into the crosswalk, sprinting towards the hauntingly familiar face. Except, before she can make it, a horn sounds, a flash of intense pain sears through her body, and then black.

Matt, an accountant for Umbreon Securities, looks up from his phone at the sound of screams. Glancing over, he sees a body of a teen splayed out on the street, a fan of blood surrounding the girl, looking for the all world like a demented halo, displaying the innocence lost today. Matt looks back down to his phone. _Tsk_ , he thinks, _just another drunk driver_.

* * *

Don't drink and drive. Who knows what will happen. A girl on the cusp of adulthood, just about to start an adventure, cut down by a drunk driver. A little old lady on the way to visit her grandson for one last time, killed by someone who just couldn't wait.


	2. The Power

Your grandfather sits you down in front of his rocking chair, creaking slowly back and forth before a fireplace. You gaze up at him with innocence in your eyes, wondering what story he will regale you with this time. He looks you up and down, seeming to peer into your very soul, then nods and takes a breath.

"I feel like it is time to give you a life lesson. Not much of one, but one that is needed none the less. The story I am about to tell you takes place back when I was younger, before I joined the army, before I met your grandmother. Indeed, this takes place when I was but a stripling, naïve to the world and its ways." He glances to the side. "I had a Growlithe once, when I was twelve years old. I went everywhere and did everything with him, we seemed to be inseparable. Then, one day when we were messing around down by the bay, near where the watermelon grow, two men with a large red R on the front of their shirts came up to me." Your grandfather shifts slightly in his chair, and then runs a hand through his gray hair. "I am still not sure as to why I accepted their offer, but what's done is done. Anyway, they walked up to me and immediately took a liking to my Growlithe. The one on the left, let's call him Red, because of this red handkerchief he had in his front pocket, walks up to me real slow while his partner stoops down to inspect my Pokémon. He looks me in the eyes and says, 'Hey kid, you want your Growlithe to be stronger?' Well, to me, stronger meant that the other kids at school wouldn't make fun of my, admittedly, small Growlithe. With that reasoning, I didn't think twice before emphatically nodding my head with a 'Yes Sir' thrown in, the scenarios of grandeur from this action running through my head. So Red makes a gesture to his partner, who takes out a needle, and jabs it into Growlithes flank. He immediately starts to whimper and yowl, flopping onto his side into the sand and kicking awkwardly into the air." He stops again, takes a sip of a water glass you didn't see, and settles further into his chair. "By the time I got over to him, the Growlithe, the two men were gone. I didn't know what to do, so I just sat there till he quit whimpering, and then carried him home. I set him down almost exactly where you're sitting, and with my parents, your great-grandparents, gone… well it was just a bunch of crying and sitting around for me. I drifted to sleep later on, and when I woke up, Growlithe has these weird protrusions from his leg, right where the guy yesterday had stabbed him with that needle." Your grandfather rubs the back of his head, looking pained. "Well, to wrap this up quickly, turns out that Growlithe got cancer, from something to do with mutated DNA, and that kind of thing doesn't work out well. Anyway, Growlithe died, I cried and learned a lesson about not trusting weird people with large letters on their clothing. I suppose if you want to go deeper, there's a saying about shortcuts to power, but who cares about that." You blink, wondering what the heck just happened.

Shortcuts to power often end in failure. Take heed of easy avenues to power offered by those around you, as they often come with hidden strings.


End file.
